Last evening when I was thinking about hope, fear, faith, freedom, search, patterns, love (Whoa, all that!)
I picked up for the nth time Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat Pray Love.
And It became all OK.
As far as I am concerned, answers to some of my gravest questions clearly lie in this piece of what some have called "chick-lit."
As I flipped through...I read:
Karma is a notion I have always liked. Not so much literally. Not necessarily because I believe that I used to be Cleopatra's bartender - but more metaphorically. The Karmic philosophy appeals to me on a more metaphorical level because even in one lifetime it's obvious how we must repeat our same mistakes, banging our heads against the same old addictions and compulsions, generating the same old miserable and often catastrophic consequences, until we can finally stop and fix it. This is the supreme lesson of Karma (and also of Western Psychology,by the way) - take care of the problems now or else you'll just have to suffer again later when you screw everything up the next time. And that repetition of suffering - that's hell. Moving out of that endless repetition to a new level of understanding - there's where you'll find heaven. - Page 274
But how can I accept bliss when it comes with this dark crushing underside - bone-crushing isolation, corrosive insecurity, insidious resentment and, of course, the complete dismantling of self that inevitably occurs when David ceases to giveth, and commences to taketh away. I can't do it anymore. Something about my recent joy in Naples has made me certain that I not only can find happiness without David, but must. I have to say good-bye to David now. - Page 88
I can't remember the last time I got dressed up, but this evening I dug out my one fancy spaghetti-strap dress from the bottom of my backpack and slithered it on. I even wore lipstick. I can't remember the last time I wore lipstick - Page 279
We were talking the other evening about the phrases one uses when trying to comfort someone who is in distress. I told him that in English we sometimes say, "I've been there". This was unclear to him at first - I have been where? But I explained that deep grief sometimes is almost like a specific location, a coordinate on a map of time. When you are standing in that forest of sorrow, you cannot imagine that you can ever find your way to a better place. But if someone can assure you that they themselves have stood in that same place,and now have moved on, sometimes this will bring hope. "So sadness is a place?" Giovanni asked. "Sometimes people live there for years," I said. In return, Giovanni told me, empathizing Italians say L'ho provato sulla mia pelle, which means "I have experienced that on my own skin". - Page 75
Richard from Texas is not a guy who worries about a lot of stuff. I wouldn't call him a neurotic person, no sir. But I am a bit neurotic, and that is why I have come to adore him. Richard's presence at the Ashram becomes my great and amusing sense of security. His giant ambling confidence hushes down all my inherent nervousness and reminds me that everything is going to be OK. (And if not OK, then at least comic.) In Richard's own words: "Me and Groceries, we steady be laughin' the whole damn time". - Page 146
I picked up for the nth time Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat Pray Love.
And It became all OK.
As far as I am concerned, answers to some of my gravest questions clearly lie in this piece of what some have called "chick-lit."
As I flipped through...I read:
Karma is a notion I have always liked. Not so much literally. Not necessarily because I believe that I used to be Cleopatra's bartender - but more metaphorically. The Karmic philosophy appeals to me on a more metaphorical level because even in one lifetime it's obvious how we must repeat our same mistakes, banging our heads against the same old addictions and compulsions, generating the same old miserable and often catastrophic consequences, until we can finally stop and fix it. This is the supreme lesson of Karma (and also of Western Psychology,by the way) - take care of the problems now or else you'll just have to suffer again later when you screw everything up the next time. And that repetition of suffering - that's hell. Moving out of that endless repetition to a new level of understanding - there's where you'll find heaven. - Page 274
But how can I accept bliss when it comes with this dark crushing underside - bone-crushing isolation, corrosive insecurity, insidious resentment and, of course, the complete dismantling of self that inevitably occurs when David ceases to giveth, and commences to taketh away. I can't do it anymore. Something about my recent joy in Naples has made me certain that I not only can find happiness without David, but must. I have to say good-bye to David now. - Page 88
I can't remember the last time I got dressed up, but this evening I dug out my one fancy spaghetti-strap dress from the bottom of my backpack and slithered it on. I even wore lipstick. I can't remember the last time I wore lipstick - Page 279
We were talking the other evening about the phrases one uses when trying to comfort someone who is in distress. I told him that in English we sometimes say, "I've been there". This was unclear to him at first - I have been where? But I explained that deep grief sometimes is almost like a specific location, a coordinate on a map of time. When you are standing in that forest of sorrow, you cannot imagine that you can ever find your way to a better place. But if someone can assure you that they themselves have stood in that same place,and now have moved on, sometimes this will bring hope. "So sadness is a place?" Giovanni asked. "Sometimes people live there for years," I said. In return, Giovanni told me, empathizing Italians say L'ho provato sulla mia pelle, which means "I have experienced that on my own skin". - Page 75
Richard from Texas is not a guy who worries about a lot of stuff. I wouldn't call him a neurotic person, no sir. But I am a bit neurotic, and that is why I have come to adore him. Richard's presence at the Ashram becomes my great and amusing sense of security. His giant ambling confidence hushes down all my inherent nervousness and reminds me that everything is going to be OK. (And if not OK, then at least comic.) In Richard's own words: "Me and Groceries, we steady be laughin' the whole damn time". - Page 146
